


All That We Could Do With This Emotion

by specialrhino



Category: Emperor's New Groove (2000)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 13:49:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13055241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/specialrhino/pseuds/specialrhino
Summary: Kronk's shoulder devil gives him some unsolicited advice. Kronk would rather not, thank you.





	All That We Could Do With This Emotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ephemeralblossom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralblossom/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, ephemeralblossom! :)

"If I was loyal to Yzma, am I allowed to like Kuzco?" Kronk frowned down at the notice. "That seems like a dick move."

Angel Kronk and Devil Kronk poofed into view.

"Let's see."

Reading glasses materialized on the tip of the angel’s nose. . Kronk's shoulder devil coughed something that sounded an awful lot like "four eyes."

The angel cleared his throat officiously and a contract poofed into his hands. "Well, it says here that cessation of service results in all obligations to your client waived. Also, nowhere does it say you are obligated to hate her enemies."

"And guess what it says here?" the shoulder devil asked, also looking mightily academic. "It says," he paused for dramatic effect, "that your halo is on backwards."

The angel's hand flew up to his halo before he growled and looked ready to jump to Kronk's other shoulder.

"You guys, you're getting really off-topic."

"He started it," they both said at once.

Kronk facepalmed for the privacy of his own thoughts. After the reinstatement of Kuzco as Emperor, Kronk had to deal with a lot of things. Lack of direction, unemployment, the fact that that someone had tried to deliver that trampoline he'd ordered for the palace daycare and it had been turned away, and the hardest thing of all: this imperial notice from Kuzco on a forum about public infrastructure, namely the upkeep of bridges. It was an issue very near and dear to Kronk's heart, as a former Junior Chipmunk.

Usually when he felt torn like this, he visited his family and felt better, but his parents were on vacation. ...family. Oh no, that was what Kronk had forgotten. Yzma's family!

 

 

Kronk settled Yzma’s legal affairs before leaving the capital - while he was on good terms with Yurak, the palace census clerk, the guy still made him do all of Yzma’s taxes before she could officially be declared a cat - so it wasn’t until four days later that Kronk arrived, out of breath, at the village. He’d remembered to bring his hang glider for the snapped rope bridges along the way, but the hardest part was climbing the peak to casa de Chicha and Pacha while carrying...well, that was a surprise.

Chicha answered the door, looking very harried.

"Kronk, was it? Come in, sit down!" She looked red in the face and generally super pregnant.

"I hate to tell you this, Chicha. But your Great Aunt is now a cat. And was kind of evil."

She gasped loudly. "Dear Aunt Yzma? No!" she said with alacrity.

"Yes," Kronk said gravely. He felt so bad he had to impart such hard news on her at a time like this. but then, there was no _good_  time for this kind of news.

"How nice of you to tell me. You didn't have to come all the way here for that, Kronk. It was very sweet of you."

"You're not taking it too hard?"

"Well, I think we can power through. And who doesn't like cats?"

"Whew, that was a lot off of my chest. And speaking of chests….." He pulled out a chest from his knapsack. It was gold and sparkly. "Without thumbs it's unlikely she’d be able to make herself another potion to turn back into a human, so surprise! here's your inheritance." He put it down on the table, which gave an ominous groan.

Chicha looked alarmed. "Kronk, I don’t know what to say." She looked closer at him. “Did you steal this?”

"I asked her if your family should get her stuff, and she said, 'Oh, yes, why didn’t I think of that? Of course some peasants in the countryside should get half of all of the wealth I worked so hard to accumulate because they’re my family." Kronk did his best Yzma imitation, to convince Chicha of her sincerity. “How great is that, right?”

Chicha frowned and opened her mouth to say something - but Kronk forgot about this when a bubbling sound coming from the kitchen. Chicha sighed and started to ease herself up and out of the chair.

"No," said Kronk, "let me. You're clearly tired, and you just got such big news. Family should help one another, you know.”

Chicha acquiesced with obvious relief and resumed looking at the chest.

There was a large pot on the stove, merrily boiling. Kronk lost himself in stirring, seasoning, chopping, and other cooking minutiae, until he picked up the llama-shaped carved pepper grinder and was reminded forcibly of Kuzco and his new, likeable persona.

Chicha peeked her head in. "Something on your mind?"

"Yeah, actually. It's Kuzco."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Well, the thing is, I used to work for Yzma, who hated Kuzco, but now Kuzco is human again and turning out to be an okay guy. But Yzma never formally fired me before turning into a cat, I quit. So now when I like Kuzco, I feel like I'm betraying Yzma."

"Well," said Chicha, in a wise, motherly voice. "Did you agree with all of Yzma's opinions?"

"Well, I guess she didn't like my spinach puffs, she didn't have the best judgement." He looked down at the bubbling soup sadly. "But loyalty is still important."

"She asked you to murder someone. Twice. Maybe she wasn't someone you should have been following. Plus, that is in the past. You shouldn't let who you were before stop what you want to be."

Kronk stopped and thought about that for a second. Then it clicked. "Oh yeah, like Atoc."

"Atoc?"

"Well, once Atoc was a cow, he didn't have to be a soldier anymore, even though he had sworn an oath.” That made him feel a ton better actually. “Thanks, Chicha!"

"I'm glad that seemed to resolve something for you."

The oven gave a ding.

"Tipo! Chaca! Dinner's ready!"

"Oh my god, Kronk is here?" From the back of the house there were sounds of scrambling, then both kids, not so tiny anymore, came hurtling into the kitchen. "Hi, Kronk!"

"I wanna say hi to him first!"

"Too late, Tipo." Chaca blew a raspberry at her brother. Man, family reunions were the best. If only Yzma were here to see this.

 

 

"-Would I say I'm looking for someone? No." The sound of Kuzco's loud voice down the path greeted Kronk at the gate to Chicha's house.

He heard some indistinct, high-pitched words.

"But if I _were_ , yeah I guess I would want someone big and stupid who wouldn’t outshine me." A pause. "Why do you ask?"

Chicha waved when Kronk stepped into view. "Kronk! The emperor and I were just talking about couple's day."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, wow, is it the third already? Time flies. Uh hi, Kuzco."

For some reason he felt embarrassed to run into the man in charge of the entirety of the known world when he was wearing Chicha’s frilly apron. Which was dumb, because he literally had seen Kuzco as a llama.

“Hey, Kronk.”

Chicha put her hand on her hip, asking casually, "You don't have anyone to celebrate it with, right Kronk?"

"Nope! Henchman-ing was a bit of a full-time gig.”

"Oh, what a shame. Well, with your many,  _many_  talents,” at this she sent a meaningful look Kuzco’s way. “I'm sure you'll find a sweetheart soon enough."

Kronk sparkled his eyes at her. "Thanks, Chicha, that's very nice of you to say."

"As it happens, Kuzco here-" she nudged Kuzco forward, "came over to offer to look after the kids tonight, but they're already with their grandmother."

Kronk looked to Kuzco, who grimaced. "Oh?"

"I was just about to ask him if he could do some herb gathering for me instead. Pacha’s been working hard in the fields all day, and I wanted to make his favorite meal. But we’re out of huacatay. Can you get some for me?"

“Sure, I love nature,” Kronk told her.

“Great. All of the best huacatay bushes are down in the jungle. Take the path behind the house, take the second left, a right and then go straight until you see them. It's right next to the path; you can't miss it."

 

 

"I'm pretty sure we need to go right." It was the first thing that Kuzco had said, save complaining about the thistle scratching his ankles.

Kronk looked down the fork in the path. To the right, the path looked smooth and full of daisies. To the left, the forest looked dark and treacherous."Chicha said left."

Kuzco looked like he was about to argue, but then only sighed. “Fine, it’s our funeral.”

They went left.

And then, quite some time of no herb bushes later, another left, because the road abruptly ended in a T at the foot of a hill.

"Are you sure Chicha said this way? The last time I was here, there was a huge tree fallen across the-oh look, there it is.”

“I’ll get that out of the way.” Kronk strode toward the fallen tree.

“You can’t lift an entire tree. I know you’re big and strong, but one guy can’t-”

Kronk grinned at him and wrapped his arms around the trunk.

“Yeah right. Welp, it looks like we're turning around, because I'm always righ-bwuh." Kuzco trailed off with a weird sound.

Kronk looked up to make sure Kuzco hadn't fainted, fallen tree hefted in his arms. Kuzco was gaping.

Kronk turned, tree swinging around to crash through other branches. "You okay there?"

"Yuh-you-yes. Yes, I am." Kuzco said, and then continued sotto voce, "Of course Mr. Muscles here has got it handled."

Kronk dropped the tree off the path, so that no one would trip, and dusted his hands off before falling into stride with Kuzco again.

“So, you ever thought about marrying rich? Because you might have a solid career as arm candy to a lucky ruler.”

“That’s nice you think so!” Kronk said, holding a rogue branch back so it didn’t hit Kuzco in the pointy face. “But I’m happy right here. Bird watching, community outreach and pursuing the culinary arts.”

“Ah,” Kuzco said, marching on ahead. “Pity.”

 

 

  
“You know, I’m surprised Chicha gathers herbs on this path.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, it doesn’t seem very traveled. In fact, I’d even go so far as to call it treacherous.” So far, Kuzco had fallen into a pit (Kronk lifted him out), tripped over four separate roots (Kronk caught him each time), nearly fallen off a bit of path that was more rock pile than road (Kronk started holding his hand to help him balance), and still there was no sign of huyacatay near the path.

How far did Chicha normally walk to get herbs for cooking?

Still, Kronk loved a good walk through the outdoors, the melodic squelch of mud underfoot. "Man, this is great. It's just like doing scavenger hunts in Junior Squirrels."

"You were in Junior Squirrels?"

"Yep, troop 329!"

Kuzco walked beside him in silence for a bit more, their hands swinging between them. Then he asked, "What does a Junior Squirrel do?"

"Oh the usual stuff. Camping, fire-starting, basic woodland creature dialects-"

"Languages? No way! So you wouldn't happen to speak, say, squirrel?"

And that was how Kronk discovered Kuzco had a terrible accent in squirrel. And it was adorable.

" _Hello,_ " Kronk said, enunciating and stretching the word out as slowly as he could manage. " _Have you seen my acorn?_ "

" _No, I do not like to wash the dishes,_ " Kuzco responded with effort.

Kronk liked the way he tried so hard, even when he was clearly failing. He gave off a golden air of confidence, like he never doubted anything and thus why would you doubt anything either? Kronk wished he were that decisive. It was what Kronk had admired about Yzma, until, of course, she'd asked him to murder someone.

Speaking of Yzma...

Kuzco tugged at Kronk's hand.

  
Kronk turned, giving him a smile, but--

"Quick! Duck!"

“Where?”

“No, you big lug, I mean _we_  should duck!” Kronk let himself be pulled behind a boulder along the path.

"It looks like there's an albino jaguar cub in that tree.” He pointed to where a small white puffball was clinging to the trunk. “And where a cub is, the mother isn't far behind."

Kronk peeked around the boulder. "Are you sure that's a jaguar? It looks a little bit too - fluffy."

They both paused and listened.

A tiny voice was muttering to itself. "When I get my hands on those jaguars, I will rip them to shreds. I will kill their ruler, and then it will be I, Queen of the Jungle Felines, on top!"

Kuzco leaned in close, whispering in Kronk’s ear. "That maybe-jaguar sounds very familiar."

"Wait," said Kronk. "Is that Yzma?"

With much quiet creeping through the underbrush, and then squinting through the branches of the bush they were hidden behind,, Kronk confirmed that the arboreal ball of fluff was none other than Yzma. Her tail was puffed up and she looked down the trunk with trepidation. She was also, inexplicably, soaked.

Kronk left hiding, and scaled the tree. He pried Yzma from the trunk and carefully tucked her into his shirt for the climb down. Kronk paused for a moment, listening to what he thought might be the coo of a red-crested fidwobble. But that wouldn’t make sense, because red-crested fidwobbles only came out at dawn. Not to mention that the cooing noise was coming from below Kronk, on the ground.

“What a cute kitty,” Kuzco baby-talked. “"Is it wrong to find this really cute?".

"I don't need your help, traitor!"

Kronk held Yzma gently to his shirtfront, even though her claws were puncturing his pectorals. "Aw, don't be like that, Yzma. I did just save you, after all."

She tried to swipe at him but missed. "And you gave away my chest of gold."

"But it's to your family. It's not like you have any use for it, and the law is very clear."

Finally at the bottom of the tree, Kronk dropped to the ground. Yzma sprung away from him, landing shivering and wobbly on four paws.

Kronk hunched his huge frame down and offered her a piece of pillbug jerky from his pocket. "Come on, eat this, Yzma, and I'll carry you to your great-niece's house."

Yzma, beyond words, yowled at him, and Kuzco protested loudly.

"No fair! You can't offer to carry her and not to carry me. I get low blood sugar, it's a curse."

Which is how Kronk ended up carrying Kuzco in his arms, with Yzma perched atop his head.

Kuzco was so small. Kronk could probably forget he was carrying anything except for the way Kuzco's hair sometimes flew into his face when and the way he smelled nice when he tried to sit up to give his opinion about something.

Yzma was very difficult to forget about, what with all of the kneading and clawing at his hair with her claws.

It ended up taking until sunset to get back, in part because the benighted trail really needed maintenance, but mostly because Kronk was trying to walk lightly and not kick up too much dust. But no matter how lightly Kronk tried to walk, when he looked down at Kuzco, Kuzco was blinking dust out of his eyes. He didn't look to bothered by it, but he could be the strong, stalwart type, Kronk didn’t know him well enough to be sure.m.

Luckily, their late return didn't fudge with Chicha's plans. "You know, it's the funniest thing. I found more of the herb at the back of the cupboard just after you left."

"What are the odds?" said Kuzco.

Kronk threw an arm around Kuzco’s shoulders. "Well that’s a relief!”

 

 

 

Kronk never did learn about where Chicha got her herbs, because when he asked her, she suddenly remembered she was going to teach him how to crochet. Kronk was so diverted that he forgot to ever ask again. Instead his brain was filled with patterns and stitches and he and Chicha had a standing weekly crochet lunch.

One bright, sunny day, Kronk arrived early and let himself into the house. He could hear the sounds of splashing outside as Pacha and the kids played in the stream, and the faint sound of snores coming from further inside the house. Kronk settled into the kitchen, deciding to not disturb Chicha's midday nap.

"Chicha?" a voice floated from the outside.

Kronk looked up from his crochet. Chicha had started teaching him last week and he was almost done with his project. This onesie was gonna be awesome!

"Chicha? Got any extra towels?"

The light tromp of a tiny person - small, but bigger than a child, perhaps the size of a cassowary - came up the path.

A very wet figure ducked through the doorway. "Hey there, big guy." said Kuzco, giving him a winning smile. He had a perfect dimple on one cheek, and eyes the color of a short-beaked fidwoq. "Got any towels? We ran out down at the stream."

"Uhhh," Kronk said, eyes helplessly chasing a drop of water down Kuzco's chest. Kronk heard the telltale poof of his most meddling (and only) mental advisors.

A pitchfork poked him somewhere on the boundless estate of his jaw. He still didn't look over. He was used to it.

"We can help you hit that, man, no problemo."

"What?" Surely Kronk hadn't heard that right. He was - he was Kuzco. His ex-boss’s ex-boss!

Kronk had no impure thoughts about his emperor there, nope.

But the voice in his ear persisted. "We can help you hit that. Not much in the brains department, but neither is he. With a body like ours, he's yours."

Thankfully, Kuzco was unaware of the conversation Kronk was privy to. He raised an eyebrow. "The towels, man."

A second poof announced the arrival of Kronk’s other advisor. "That is a very disrespectful way of putting it!" His angel sounded very affronted.

The three Kronks studied Kuzco in contemplative silence. Now that Kronk was thinking about it, Kuzco's face was an actual perfect triangle. Surely that level of inbreeding shouldn't be healthy or appealing, and yet… Strangely attractive.

"That said, buddy, you should probably lock that down."

Kronk coughed. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Tow-wells." Kuzco finger-drew a square in the air in front of him. "Cloth things? Fabric? You use them to dry yourself?"

Kronk had a hard time focusing, distracted by another whisper in his ear of, "You can't hide things from yourself man, we watch you. All day. That is our job."

"Be gentle!” the angel hissed. “Look at him. He clearly needs guidance."

"Sometimes you sit on them?” Kuzco continued, still waiting for his answer. “For a picnic?"

"Buddy, the first step is acknowledging it," the devil soothed.

"We can help you."

“Drying your hands? Wiping mud off your carriage window? Scrubbin the royal bod?”

Kronk was starting to go crosseyed.

Kuzco leaned in. "Do you need help?"

Kronk shot up. "I don't need anybody’s help! Leave me alone!"

"Uh, oooooookay, this is getting weird."

"Don’t lie to yourself, Kronk. Lying is a sin," the angel reminded him.

His devil nodded. "For once we agree."

Kronk made a strangled noise, reached into the basket behind him and thrust a towel at Kuzco.

Kuzco took it. "Finally!" He began gingerly patting his hair, walking over to sit by the window where the hearty springtime sun outlined him in gold.

The devil did a squinty thing with his eyes and flexed his chest. He wiggled around a bit, for good measure. It looked ridiculous. Kronk needed to put an end to this. "That doesn't look very effective.”

"Maintaining this hair is a very delicate process, what can I say."

"Wait," said his shoulder angel, "no, he's got a point."

"Hey, do you have another towel?" Kuzco asked.

"You really should try that." His angel sounded very distracted. "It really works."

Kuzco flipped his hair back and it gleamed in the sunlight. And also flicked Kronk in the face with drops of water.

Yzma, asleep on the floor, jumped and hissed.

"Come on, admit it to yourself," devil Kronk said into his ear. "Just look at that guy, he's so slight, you could break him in half."

Kronk waved his arms around. "Could you just leave me alone?"

Angel Kronk looked speculatively at Devil Kronk, licking his lips. "Sure." And they both poofed away.

  
“Oh thank goodness.”

When he opened his eyes, Kuzco gave him an uncertain look. "Um, oookay.” He dropped the wet towel on the floor. “Catch you later then, big guy." He left the house.

Kronk watched him disappear down the path, whistling.

A beat of silence. An actual cricket chirped.

He was still just sitting there when Pacha came in from the meadow two hours later.

"You look troubled. Do you want some corn beer?"

"Yes please," Kronk said. "That would be great."

 

 

 

The next month was very busy, so Kronk didn’t have any time to visit Chicha, Pacha and the kids. He wasn’t trying to avoid anyone, nope. His dad and brothers just needed a lot of help with the harvest this year. Toootally.

But then Tipo had sent him a crudely drawn invitation to their family’s small, pre-post-harvest celebration via a tinker’s caravan and, well, he just couldn’t not come.

When Kronk walked up to Chicha's house, Kuzco was lying on top of the woodpile. It didn't look very comfortable. Kuzco also looked very sweaty, which made Kronk feel very uncomfortable.

"Help," Kuzco rasped melodramatically.

Kronk’s chivalric impulses overrode his nerves (and all of those things he definitely wasn’t thinking about) and he obligingly picked Kuzco up by the shoulders and put him down in a standing position. Kuzco squeaked. "Wow, that is not what I had in mind."

"What did you have in mind?" What was Kronk thinking, this was just Kuzco. Nothing to be worried about.

"We-ell," Kuzco said, blinking up at Kronk. The pollen in the countryside must irritate his eyes, Kronk thought, trying to ignore how soulful it made him look.

Objectification was wrong! It wasn't Kuzco's fault he was so pretty.

"I maaaay have promised Pacha to have all of this wood cut by noon, but chopping wood is a lot harder than it looks." Kuzco turned the beseeching look up to eleven, leaning in. "Could you show me how?"

When did he get so close? Kronk swallowed and stepped back. "Uh, yeah, of course."

He looked around for the axe and picked up a piece of wood from the pile.

"So, first you put the wood on the stump, like this-" Kronk stood the log up on one end. "- then you aim for the center and make sure when you swing, you follow all the way through." He chopped the wood in two, then held the axe out to Kuzco. "Here, you try."

Kuzco took the axe, but then also grabbed onto Kronk's wrist with his other hand.

"The thing is, Kronk, I'm much more of a hands-on learner." Kuzco looked up at him. Up and up and up into Kronk's eyes until his head was tilted very far back, because this close, there really was a height difference. “You know what I’m saying?”

Kronk found himself agreeing without listening to what he was agreeing to.

"Great!" Kuzco fit both of Kronk’s hands around the axe with his own, and snuggled back against Kronk's chest - completely incidentally, of course.

"No, no, put your hands like this," Kronk said, demonstrating by putting his hands half a hand span apart on the salient parts of the handle.

"How can I put my hands there when you've put your hands there?"

"Okay, your turn to try it.”

Kronk let go of the axe. It fell to the ground in Kuzco's limp grip.

"Hey! You gotta hold on tighter than that.” Kuzco leaned down to pick up the axe, still plastered to Kronk's front. Kronk carefully emptied his mind of all thoughts until Kuzco was up again and holding the axe. “Don’t feel bad, it took me a long time to develop my grip.”

“Tell me more.”

"Look," said Kuzco, leaning back against Kronk. "The only way this is going to work is if you put your hands on mine and slide them into position."

"Uh, okay." Kronk said, and gingerly covered Kuzco's small, delicate hands with his own. They looked gargantuan in comparison.

The axe started to droop again, and Kronk tightened his grip. "Actually holding the axe is the first step."

"Oh, right, silly me." Kuzco giggled.

Kronk cleared his throat and helped Kuzco chop a piece of wood. Presto. He stepped back. "Okay, time to do this on your own. You've got this."

"Really?" Kuzco said airily. "Do you think I can? Another demonstration wouldn't hurt." He opened his eyes very wide, and blinked twice.

“Did you get a splinter in your eyes?”

“No.” Blink blink.

Which was how Kronk chopped five more pieces of wood with his arms around the emperor of the known world, his hands over Kuzco's hands, clothing sticking and sweaty under the bright morning sun, Kuzco's hair tickling the underside of Kronk's chin.

Kuzco finally seemed to get the hang of it after piece of wood number six, and chopped the next eight pieces on his own while Kronk watched.

"Booyah!" he yelled once he was finished, jumping around. "Did you see that? That wood was all, oh, I'm solid and annoying, nothing is going to chop me, and then the axe was like, yeah, sucker? The schism is happening whether you want it or not! Bow before me, timber! I totally rule!" Kuzco's dance continued until he tripped on nothing and caught himself on Kronk's chest. Kuzco smiled up at him.

"Gross! Are you gonna kiss?"

Two heads poked around the corner of the house.

"Ugh! Why would you think that, Chaca?"

"Mom says they're going to, Tipo!"

Chica’s voice came floating out the door. "Kids! Why do I hear your voice coming from the outside when you should be inside doing the dishes?"

The kids sprinted off, leaving Kronk and Kuzco standing by the woodpile. They both tried to say something at the same time and then both stopped. They laughed awkwardly. Kuzco shuffled back a pace.

"So."

"So."

"So, I was, uh, thinking."

"Yeah?" murmured Kronk. His eyes felt like an unbalanced knife. He kept trying to keep eye contact with Kuzco but his gaze kept falling down to his mouth. Luckily, Kuzco seemed to be having the same problem.

Kuzco licked his lips. "Sometimes for, uh, for, like festivals, sometimes I need, like, a plus one?"

Kronk hummed, distracted by Kuzco’s adorable man bun.

"Sooooo I was thinking, that maybe you could-" Kronk honestly wasn't listening, at that point. He was thinking about what his shoulder devil… Like Yzma always said, trust your inner demons, Kronk. Why not? It couldn't hurt, right?

He smoldered and flexed his muscles impressively.

Kuzco's eyes caught on his chest and he began to look mightily distracted and then he reached up and pulled Kronk down into a kiss.

“Aren’t you going to-”  
Kronk lifted him off the ground with ease. This shut Kuzco right up, and a good makeout time was had by all.

Thankfully, Kronk's shoulder angel and devil seemed to have a sense of timing in this one instance. They waited until Kronk alone and in his pjs, excitedly relating his day to his teddy bear, before giving their unsolicited and confusing opinions on his life.

Kronk's shoulder angel punched the air in victory. "Ha! I told you so. That flexing trick totally works!"

"Wait," said Kronk. "Aren't you usually on the other side?" He pointed to his other shoulder. Devil Kronk appeared in front of his finger and batted it away.

"Gloating is below the truly accomplished," he said in uncharacteristically stuffy tones.

Kronk's shoulder angel didn't seem to find anything amiss. "Admit it. You think it's hot." He gave a little cackle and preened.

Kronk's shoulder devil fumed but did, upon closer examination, look a little turned on. In fact, both of Kronk's shoulder denizens looked...rumpled.

"Uh, guys? Could you stop ignoring me? And maybe telling me why you've switched personalities?"

Kronk's shoulder angel cackled. "What can I say, devil Kronk has finally started to rub off on me."

"What do you mean? We haven't switched-" devil Kronk looked down at himself and blushed. "Oh. Uh. I'm actually your shoulder angel. That guy," he jabbed his thumb at devil Kronk, who was still laughing at his own joke, "is your devil."

"Why were you - wait, were you guys -"

"It turns out your angel likes to be freaky in the sheets," Kronk's shoulder ang-devil ugh this was confusing - said.

"We were roleplaying," the other one said, aiming at a dignified tone. "Which is a perfectly healthy thing to do in a, ahem, biblical relationship."

Kronk clapped his hands over eyes. "I don't want to know! I know you guys can watch everything I do, but...this doesn't feel like any of my business. I really don't want to know."

"You say that now," said a voice that was probably his devil, "but when you need more advice with Kuzco, we'll be here! Ha HA!"

And to Kronk's future mortification, they were right.


End file.
